


Piggy

by Theirmajesty2139



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Penetrative Sex, Protectiveness, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:14:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25708021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theirmajesty2139/pseuds/Theirmajesty2139
Summary: Chris Walker corners a female reader, she begs for her life and he chooses to spare her.What will this act of kindness and mercy lead to?...smut. It leads to smut.
Relationships: Chris Walker/Reader
Kudos: 58





	Piggy

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first reader insert M/F work  
> Go easy on me

Im trapped. Cornered with nowhere to go. Oh god, no.  
I listen to the slow clunk of chains and the stamp of approaching feet.  
"Little pig..." his voice reverberates just outside the door and I curl tight in on myself, covering my mouth and nose to keep myself silent.  
The door to the room I’m in opens and light floods in. He stands in the doorway, even larger up close.  
Maybe if I stay really still and silent he won’t notice me.  
He slams the door, shutting himself in with me. I jump and his head snaps towards me.  
We make eye contact.  
"Little pig..." he repeats and reaches for me.  
I raise both my arms Above my head and begin crying.  
I sob hysterically and beg for my life.  
"P-please…please don’t kill me. I don’t want to die."  
I speak in a pathetic, small voice, my arms shaking over my head.  
He pauses, his hand suspended in mid air.  
"Have to. Must contain it." He slurs his words, his voice hindered by the metal pulling his lips back and exposing his teeth in a terrifying grimace.  
I cry harder, watching him through blurry eyes.  
"Chris, please... don't hurt me."  
He lets out a low sigh and his arm drops to his side.  
"Don’t belong here..." he speaks softly.  
"No! I’m not a patient, I’m a journalist. I broke in to get camera footage, I’m trying to get this place shut down. I-I want to help you!"  
He seems to consider this for a moment before speaking again  
"I have to contain it... have to stop it. No viable hosts!"  
"Hey! hey! Focus for me, Chris. What are you trying to contain?" I ask gently and he opens his mouth to talk before groaning and clawing at the metal on his cheek.  
"Does that hurt you? I can take it off for you if you bend down."  
He thinks over my offer before narrowing his eyes  
"No tricks." He says like a warning  
Knowing better than to upset him, I nod.  
He kneels down and bows his head to me so I can reach around and unbuckle the cruel devise.  
It hits the floor and he lets out an audible sigh of relief. I don’t release my hands from his shoulders, instead feeling the rough, scarred skin. What happened here?  
He shudders a little and his eyes meet mine.  
I give a small smile despite my situation and he takes one of my hands in his huge claw-like fingers. I feel so breakable pressed so close to him and his oversized body.  
He appears to spot the gash on my arm that a variants' knife had left. I wasn’t fast enough to out run all of them.  
He assesses the wound in his hands before taking my other hand and getting to his feet.  
"Come on." He pulls me towards the door. "Don’t run."  
Another warning. I didn’t need to be told twice.  
He leads me through the maze of rooms and hallways before stopping at an oak door and ushering me inside.  
I recognise the space to be a medical room of some kind. Most of the drugs had already been stolen but a med kit hangs untouched on the wall.  
As I unhook it and sit to patch myself up I think about Walker’s behavior. He seems more lucid now, choosing to open doors rather than blindly slamming them down. I take out a disinfectant bottle and a swab and clean my wound. I bite my lip hard to stop my exclamations of pain as I do so but i let a few slip and my large companion averts his gaze. When I’m satisfied I’ve lowered my risk of infection I bandage the wound in a thick layer of gauze. I slip the extra into my pocket Just in case. I think about why he brought me here. Repaying my one small act of kindness, maybe. I feel more assured that he won’t kill me.  
Who goes out of their way to heal someone they plan to kill?  
He seems to be disentangling the chains around his arms, or at least trying to. His claw-like fingers seem to be unable to keep hold of the chain.  
I get up from my seat and reach out to take his hand.  
"Here, let me." I twist the metal until the knots come loose and his arms are free. I assess the damage to the skin. They were so tight the bloody imprint of chain links are left in his forearms. My eyes fill with sympathetic tears. How could anyone do this to another person?  
I get the left over disinfectant and gauze. He allows me to clean his injuries without even flinching. What kind of pain had he faced that this wouldn’t even register?  
I wrap his wrists in the remaining bandage, not being able to completely cover the wound due to the girth of his arm. Still he seems to appreciate my work.  
"Thank you."  
"No worries. Now we match" I display my arm. "We’re a team, right?"  
He ignores my comment, turning to the door.  
"Now what?" I ask  
"You leave." He says sternly.  
I let myself hope, just maybe I’ll get out of this alive.

"This way." He grips my hand the whole way as we walk, to stop me from running, I presume.  
Maybe having such a powerhouse of a man by my side lulled me into a sense of safety because I don’t even hear the variant coming.  
He appears seemingly out of nowhere as Chris releases my hand to move a heavy barricade, moaning through a mouth sewn shut.  
I don’t have time to scream before he’s on top of me and his bat has swung into my chest, knocking the wind from my lungs.  
"Flesh,flesh,flesh" he whispers over and over as he prepares to hit me again.  
I scream for Walker and the variant Is pulled from my body. I am showered in blood.  
Above me, the variants body is gripped in a large hand, his head torn clean off.  
I pant hard, my body overcome with adrenaline and fear.  
Chris drops the body and ushers me through the now un-barricaded door.  
The room we end up in is dark but safe and empty save for some old sofas.  
I take this time to breathe and assess my new injury.  
I strip my bloody shirt and stare down past my bra at the bruise on my upper stomach.  
"You hurt?" He asks, sitting down on one of the sofas which strains under his weight.  
I wince. "Yeah, he might’ve cracked a rib.."  
I turn to face him and I watch his eyes widen as I approach in only a bra.  
I sit beside him and my hand caresses the back of his.  
"You saved me..."  
He says nothing but turns his head away as though he’s embarrassed.  
Maybe it’s the adrenaline or the gratitude of being alive but I curl my arm around his neck and kiss him.  
He startles for a moment before returning my kiss as best he can with such torn lips.  
His hand comes to rest on my thigh, squeezing a little. I understand what he wants. It’s probably been a long time for him, being locked up and all.  
I pull myself onto his lap and immediately feel the hardness in his pants.  
"Can I take these down?" I ask, my fingers on his zipper.  
He nods and I pull, releasing possibly the largest erection I’ve ever seen. He’s thick and uncut, a bush of dark pubic hair nestled at the base.  
His hands, which have been resting on the curve of my waist squeeze and the sharp tips of his fingers dig too hard into my skin.  
"Ah! Hey!" I let out a pained sound and he immediately releases his grip.  
"If we’re gonna do this, god..." I pause to collect myself. "You’ve got to be gentle. You don’t realise how big, how strong you are. "  
He nods his head. "Sorry."  
He adjusts himself so no part of him digs or squeezes me. I relax a little.  
I kiss him again, pressing myself into the heel of his hand, which sits between my legs and using the friction to my advantage. I tug down my jeans as I feel a wetness in my underwear.  
He gapes at my body, as though in awe. Slowly, carefully he cups my hip and glides his fingers down, slipping them into the edges of my underwear and tugging them down my thighs. They drop to the floor and I step out of them, his hand runs up my thigh and between my legs, he caresses my lips, feeling the soft wetness.  
I look down at his dick, only half hard but unnaturally thick. Will it even fit?  
I stroke him, measuring four of my fingers to meet his girth.  
I sit on his lap, my hips raised and suck my fingers before reaching down and circling my entrance with the tip of one.  
I slide two fingers into myself and curl them in the same way I would do in the privacy of my bedroom. I use the thumb of my other hand to rub little circles on my clit as I add another finger.  
I moan, high and needy and watch as his dick twitches in his hand.  
I keep going, getting so close that I’m dripping wet and ready.  
"You ready, big guy?"  
He grunts and I sit on him, feeling the stretch as his cock fills me.  
His mouth falls open and his hands grip the armrests of the sofa, tearing into the material. He lets out a guttural moan and thrusts up into me, he’s so thick I feel like I’m going to split in half, I’m so full in a way I never have been before.  
I rub my fingers over my clit and bounce hard on his dick.  
I whine as our hips meet. I imagine him flipping me over and fucking me into the sofa so hard it hits the wall. I don’t know if I could ask him to do that. Gentle sex with Chris is so intense it’s painful, I don’t know if I would survive him if he was rough. I’ve seen him rip a mans head off effortlessly, his claws could so easily break my skin.  
"I-" he can’t finish, his gasp and rigid body is the only warning I get before hot liquid fills me. The feeling of his cum leaking out of me as his thrusting becomes lazy sends me over the edge and I groan loudly, my body shaking.  
His calloused, bloodstained hands curl around my back, supporting me as I lay across his chest, feeling the damaged skin. What kind of... engine could’ve done this?  
He seems unwilling or unable to tell me what happened. I realise I have two options:  
I could keep going through this, revealing the whole truth but risk losing the man who had killed to protect me.  
Or I could take what I have on camera, the horrible conditions and the mutilated patients and run into the night with Chris, get him to a hospital and start a whole other life.  
I listen as he gives a huff, he looks so tired but we have to move soon, no place is safe for long here.  
I pull my pants off the floor and manoeuvre into them.  
"Come on Chris. We’re getting outta here, together."


End file.
